Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1) by Julia Roberts Page B

thought... well I’m not sure what I thought actually.
Anyway you’ll probably be tired of my company by then so don’t feel you have to
come,’ she blundered on.
    She felt like a schoolgirl on a first date, except that she
didn’t have that particular experience to draw on as she had never dated when
she was in school.
    It was Philippe’s turn to grin. ‘You’re not nervous to spend
the day alone with me are you?’ he teased.
    ‘Of course not,’ she lied. ‘Anyway we won’t be alone,’ she
said, indicating the driver who had picked her up from the airport, who she had
spotted over Philippe’s shoulder.
    ‘More is the pity,’ Philippe said under his breath as he
watched her move towards the driver, Sachin, hand outstretched.
    Holly was explaining to him that Philippe would be joining
her for the sightseeing trip, and asking if she needed to pay any extra.
    ‘No, madam,’ Sachin said. ‘The price is for the car and the
driver, not per person. But do you have enough picnic for two people?’
    Holly unclipped the lid of the cool box and looked inside.
There was fruit and salads, sandwiches and cakes, and cans of soft drink.
    ‘There’s plenty,’ Holly said out loud, adding in her head,
particularly as I have totally lost my appetite since setting eyes on Philippe
again.
     
     
    Usually when Holly was working, going on the sightseeing tour
was a necessary chore so that she could write about the experience on her blog.
Not so today. She couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself when
it didn’t revolve around her son. From the moment she had climbed into the back
seat of the limo that morning, with Philippe at her side, she had felt like
Holly the woman, rather than Holly the mother. Her initial nervousness at being
in his company had disappeared by the time they had reached the other side of
Flic en Flac. She was enjoying his proximity.
    To start with Sachin had been the one answering all of
Holly’s many and varied questions: What was that mountain called? Who were the
first inhabitants? What is the name of that tree? Is it safe to buy the fruit
and coconut milk from the roadside shacks? Philippe just sat back listening and
observing. His first input was when Holly asked Sachin about the colours of the
Mauritian national flag.
    Sachin had answered, ‘The red is for the flame-flower tree.
The blue is the ocean. The yellow represents the sun and the green is the
wealth of vegetation on the island.’
    Holly would have been quite satisfied with this explanation
but Philippe interjected, ‘That’s the first time I have heard the red stripe
described that way. I thought it represented the bloodshed during the years of
slavery and more recently the fight for independence?’
    Sachin regarded Philippe in his rear-view mirror. ‘That is
true, sir,’ he confirmed, ‘but peaceful Mauritians prefer to forget the past
and nurture the future.’
    ‘A good attitude,’ Philippe said. ‘However people usually
like to know the truth.’
    Holly said nothing.
    ‘Have you also heard the interpretation regarding the four
cultures who live harmoniously on the island,’ Sachin asked.
    Philippe nodded, but Holly, anxious to steer the
conversation away from truth-telling, said, ‘I haven’t.’
    ‘The red represents Hindus, the blue Creoles, yellow is the
Chinese and green is Muslims,’ Sachin said. ‘Each has its own community but
they exist happily side by side.’
    The first stop on their island tour was to see the famed
coloured earth at Chamarel. It could only be reached by driving along bumpy
roads that were more suited to a four-wheel drive than a limo. It had rained
overnight and the still-wet ground had steam rising from it as the hot sun beat
down, so it was very difficult to determine the various shades of colour with
the naked eye. Satisfaction rating, considering the journey and the entrance
fee, was only really a five, but in Philippe’s company it rose to a six.
    They stopped to